


The List

by ClaireScott



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthday, F/M, Food Sex, Phone Sex, Strawberries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-02 21:32:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4074589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaireScott/pseuds/ClaireScott
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wants you to buy some special stuff. As he calls you for your birthday you get a hint what he's up to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> English is still not my first language. I'm sorry for all the horrible mistakes.

It’s all silent and peaceful on this beautiful Saturday morning. You’re alone in the bunker; Dean and Sam are on a hunt a few hours away. You have no plans except some shopping for Dean. He gave you a list with things you have to buy. After shopping maybe you’ll bake a pie. For Dean. And for yourself. A birthday pie. You turn around in your bed once more, touching the empty side with your hand. A deep sigh comes over your lips. Waking up alone on your birthday is shitty. No chance to sugarcoat this. Your eyes fall shut again and within seconds you’re lost in a ridiculously romantic daydream including Dean Winchester, a picnic, a birthday cake and yourself. 

An hour later you’re standing in the store, fumbling Dean’s list out of your pocket.  
“Strawberries, whipped cream in a spray can, sparkling wine (dry, no bottom shelf), condoms”.  
That’s it. You turn the piece of paper around – nothing more. What the hell? He could buy strawberries, whipped cream, sparkling wine and his goddamn condoms by himself on his way homewards. For whatever Dean, passionate beer drinker and anti-romanticist, needs this stuff: You don’t wanna know. Maybe a romantic picnic with one of his bar pick-ups.  
“Dork,” you mumble, asking yourself if he’s kidding you.  
You buy some food for yourself and everything you’re going to need for a really good pie and of course strawberries, sparkling wine and whipped cream. At the frame with the condoms you marvel the really impressive variety. Just “condoms” seem to be very non-specific. Bloody hell, you have no clue what Dean prefers. And what fucking size he needs. You give a shrug and grab a package that seems to be the most averaged one in this rack. Not your business. If this is not what he wants or needs, he can drop dead.  
Back in the bunker you store your shopping and bake your own birthday pie. Kind of sad, but that’s the disadvantage of being grown-up and alone. After closing your private bakery for this day you’re really bored.  
“Shit, that sucks,” you whisper, turning on the TV.  
In the moment your phone rings you feel better. At least one of a million humans remembers your birthday, yay!  
“Hey, Sam!”  
“Hey, (Y/N). Just a quick call to wish you all the best. Happy birthday, Sweetie!”  
“Thank you, Sam. How is the hunt going?”  
“Okay, I guess. We’ll be back tomorrow evening at least that’s the plan. Do you have fun?”  
“God, yes! I have a birthday pie and I’m able to watch romantic movies without snarky comments.”  
Sam laughs: “Perfect. Dean’s going to call you in the evening, he said. He’s busy right know, driving around, searching for witnesses. But he wants me to ask you if you have bought his stuff. Did you?”  
“Of course I did.“  
“Okay. So, see you tomorrow, (Y/N). Enjoy your birthday.”  
“Thank you. I will. Bye, Sam.“ 

It’s almost midnight and you decide to go to bed. Dean didn’t call, probably he forgot it. You sigh, feeling alone and shitty. Just in the moment you turn the bedside lamp off your phone rings.  
“Hey, Dean,” you murmur and for a moment all is silent. “Dean?”  
“Hey, honey. Happy birthday, little one.”  
“Thank you. I lost a bet against myself: I was absolutely positive you would forget to call.”  
“Come on, (Y/N)! I’m not that worse.”  
“Yeah, right. You aren’t.“  
“Did you buy my stuff?“  
“Of course I did. For what do you need strawberries and sparkling wine and whipped cream?”  
“For a very special party.”  
“A-ha?”  
“Yeah. If you want you can be a part of it.“  
“Dunno. What kind of strawberry-party is this?” You frown, asking yourself where this may lead.  
“You’re in bed, sweets?”  
“It’s almost midnight, Dean. I am.”  
“Okay. And you’re alone?“  
“Yes, of course. Men usually don’t fall from heaven, so wherefrom should I have a company?”  
You hear him swallow and his voice is husky and soft as he speaks: “Good. So, the strawberry party …”  
“I’m very curious, Dean. Don’t put me on the rack.”  
“It will kick off tomorrow evening. Only if you want of course.”  
“Training on the shooting ranch, some spin-the-bottle and a strawberry tart for the winner?”  
“No. Just listen; please hear me out, okay?”  
“Mhm.”  
“Do you trust me, (Y/N)?”  
“Yeah, I do. Why?”  
“Shhh. Listen.” He clears his throat and his tone makes you close your eyes: “Imagine lying on the bed, being fed by me with some strawberries. I would lay a trail of strawberries down your body, adorn them with whipped cream and eat them, licking the whipped cream off your body, off your nipples, your crook of the arm, your collarbones.”  
“Oh”, you whisper and he hushes you.  
“I would spray some cream on my finger and let you lick it, giving you sparkling wine, strawberries, cream, whatever you beg me for. When the whipped cream is used up, I would dip the strawberries elsewhere. Can you imagine where?”  
“No,” you whisper, feeling the heat rushing through your body.  
“I would dip them in your soaking wet pussy, (Y/N). I’m sure you taste fantastic.”  
“Dean,” you whisper, blushing.  
“Could I dip a strawberry right now? Are you wet, baby?”  
“I … I guess,” you whisper, clenching your free fist in the sheets.  
You hear Dean’s smile as he answers: “Would you have a look for me, baby?”  
Wherever Dean is, it’s all silent in his room, you just hear a creak from the bed he sits on.  
“Honey? Still with me?”  
“Yes, yes I am. Dean …”  
Your voice is just a breathless whisper and you feel how much you crave Dean’s presence, his touch. You can’t believe this is happening, not after all these months you’re secretly in love with him.  
“Spread your legs.” Soft and gentle, seductive and irresistible. “Slip with your fingers in your panty. Further down, honey. Part your lips and feel around. Tell me: what are you feeling?”  
You follow his voice and whisper: “I’m wet, Dean.”  
“Good. Wet enough to taste your sweetness on a strawberry?”  
“Yeah. I’m nearly dripping and that’s ... just wow.”  
It’s impressive to be honest. Just a few words, Dean’s dark voice and you’re horny as hell.  
His low laugh makes you shiver. “Awesome, I like that. After I’m fed with strawberries covered in your delicious juices, what do you want me to do next?”  
“Maybe let me taste you?”  
“Wanna have a bit of my semen on a strawberry?”  
“Yes,” you whisper, “I would love this.”  
“Later, honey. The plan is to cum in your pussy first. That’s why we need the condoms, y’know?”  
You moan in anticipation and start rubbing your clit. Dean falls silent, he’s just listening to your increasing arousal.  
“Dean!”, You gasp and he starts talking again.  
“I’m day-dreaming a lot of you, of your beautiful body and your broad-minded soul. “  
“Yeah?” You pant, adding more pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves, increasing the speed.  
“Yeah. I often wonder what it feels like to sink into your hot wetness. Or how it feels to pull you on my lap and spear you with my cock. Your eyes squeezed shut, a scream on your lips, your head tipped back, neck exposed, your beautiful tits protruded.”  
“Oh...”  
“Yeah. That’s one of my favorite imaginations when it comes to you and me. And every time you’re with me in the kitchen I fantasize about bending you over the damn table and taking you like an animal, giving totally in in my primal instincts.”  
“Oh, fuck, Dean!” A sigh slips over your lips and you feel your orgasm building fast.  
“You like being taken?”  
“Yes, fuck, yes!”  
Dean chuckles low: “Good to know. Close, baby?”  
“Yes, yes. Please!”  
“I wanna hear you, (Y/N). Loud. Clear. So loud I would’ve to cover your mouth.”  
Seconds later you are loud. Dean’s silent again, he’s just listening to your fast and snatchy breathing. In the second you’re coming down from your high you feel embarrassed.  
“Can’t wait to see this tonight, to hear you near me,” Dean whispers after nearly a minute.  
You take a look at the clock – it’s after midnight. Tonight.  
“Do you ... do you really want ...?” You ask, somehow insecure.  
You have no idea how to look him in the eyes anymore.  
“Want what? A strawberry after birthday party with you?”  
“Yes. Dean, I ...”  
“Of course I want. Go to sleep now, baby. You need to be rested tonight.”  
“So, uhm, thank you.”  
“You’re welcome, baby girl,” he whispers and you just want to say your goodnight as you remember one thing.  
“What about you?”  
“What do you mean?” He asks, sounding concerned.  
“Do you have a boner, Dean?”  
His laugh is freed and he confesses: “Sure thing, honey. I would call an emergency doctor if not. You sounded so hot, I’m horny as a tomcat in love.”  
“Do ... do you want to touch yourself?”  
“Yes. But I can wait a few minutes more. I can take care of myself, (Y/N). Go to sleep. I see you in the afternoon.”  
“Next time is my turn, Dean.”  
“Deal. Bye, babe.”  
The free-line signal whirs in your ear and you stare at the ceiling. Tonight you will be fucked by Dean Winchester. All you’ve dreamed about will come true.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A romantic picnic, proudly presented by Dean Winchester

It was really, really awkward to look Dean in the eyes and you avoided his gaze the whole evening. You feel totally ashamed for masturbating on the phone and the way Dean greeted you (with a smug smile and a really short and casual hug) did nothing to decrease your embarrassment. After dinner you literally flee in your room. You open the door and step in, closing the door in your back, breathing deeply.   
This fucking dork played me for a sucker, you think. Asshole, goddamn Winchester.   
Making two steps heading to your bed you stop, frowning. What the hell is this? Little green somethings on your black blanket. You carefully take one, watching it closely – and you start laughing.   
“Dork!”   
It’s the little leaf crown strawberries have on top. Your fucking bed is strawberry-leaf-decked.   
“I’ve had no roses so I had to improvise,” Dean’s voice comes from behind you.   
You turn around seeing him leaning at the door case. He comes in, closing and locking the door. He carries a basket to your bed and start to unpack the things in it, positioning them on your nightstand: Sparkling wine, a bowl with strawberries, the whipped cream, two champagne glasses, and finally the box with condoms.   
“Dean,” you whisper and he shakes his head: “Just let me finish, okay?”   
He opens the bottle with sparkling wine, pours it into the glasses and hands you one. You stare at the floor, still avoiding his gaze. He takes a strawberry and holds it in front of your mouth.   
“Try,” he whispers, “They’re really good.”  
Mechanically you open your mouth, eat the strawberry. You see Dean’s smile and he raises his glass. Within seconds your glass is empty. You need this.   
“Uh! Take it slow, honey,” Dean laughs, taking the glass out of your hand and pulling you nearer.   
His lips are at your ear and he kisses your earlobe, whispering: “I want this, really bad. What about you?”  
“Yes,” you whisper after five seconds of intensive meditation. “Yes.”  
His lips are soft and warm, wandering from your ear to your mouth and his kiss weakens your knees. Your hand searching for hold on his neck as his tongue meets yours, as you feel the heat of his body. It’s a long kiss, tender and gentle, exploring, enjoying, and getting to know each other. In the moment he pulls back, taking a deep breath you already miss him. He feels blind for the spray can, shaking it and spraying some whipped cream on a strawberry, just a dab.   
“I get a kiss, you get a strawberry.”  
“That’s the deal?” You ask, smiling.   
“Right.”   
He holds the strawberry high over his head and you kiss his neck, nibbling a bit at his skin, eliciting a little moan from him.   
“This way?” You ask, taking a step back.  
“Yeah. Come here; take what’s yours, (Y/N).”   
He lowers his hand, feeding you with the strawberry, before he sprays a bit of the whipped cream on his fingers. You grab his wrist, taking his fingers in your mouth and suck the whipped cream of his fingertips. It’s disturbingly erotic, you think, watching his face closely, seeing pure lust in his eyes.   
Once he replaces his fingers with his tongue you unbutton your jeans, stepping out of it while kissing him desperately, without breaking the kiss.  
Seconds later you only wear your panties and Dean makes an inviting gesture to your strawberry leaf covered bed. He kneels between your legs, reaching for the bowl with strawberries. You hiss as he places the first one on your sternum. It’s cold and a bit wet.   
He takes his time laying a trail on your chest and your belly, watching your decorated body closely as he’s finished.   
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, taking the spray can.   
You giggle as the whipped cream hits your skin. It tickles a bit and you bit on your lower lip to hold still, not to destroy the kind of art he produces on your body. And then, after a few minutes and a impressive amount of whipped cream on your body, Dean starts eating. He eats one strawberry, sprays a lot of kisses on the place it laid, feeding you with the next. He licks the whipped cream off your nipples, making you moan. You have to close your eyes, concentrate on the sensations he causes on your skin.   
“You’re full?” He asks as you don’t open your mouth anymore.   
“Not as full as I want,” you whisper, smiling.   
He chuckles, licking whipped cream out off your bellybutton.   
“You will be very full, very soon. But to fill you up I need you to be wet. Are you wet, honey?”  
“Yes, I am,” you confess, your voice shaking in anticipation.   
“Take your panties off, babe.”   
You follow this order more than willing to offer and he sighs in the moment you’re completely naked. He strips too and in the moment you open your eyes you see him in all his glorious perfection. He’s the most handsome man you have ever seen. And he’s clearly more than willing to fuck you. A little bit of precum glares on his cock and you feel around in the bowl for a strawberry. You sit up, smiling, and wipe the precum away with the fruit. Dean hisses, maybe because of the coldness, maybe because it turns him on. Seductively you bring the precum-dipped strawberry to your mouth, biting it in two pieces, eating with closed eyes and a satisfied hum.   
“My turn,” Dean whispers, “Spread your legs.”  
You do and seconds later a cold fruit gliding through your folds, circling around your clit, your entrance. He wets the strawberry thoroughly in your juices before he eats it and grabbing the next one.   
“Delicious. As I thought. I want more.”  
Carefully, not to mash the fruit, he circles again around your clit, and the cold sensation of the fruit feels so fucking good you have to moan, you can’t bear it down. The next strawberry, a really large one, is dipped in your entrance, very slowly, very careful.   
“Dean, please,” you beg and he eats the fruit with a grin.   
His thumb massages your bundles of nerves until you breathe heavily and not able to hold still anymore. It’s difficult, but you manage to sit up, grabbing his neck and pulling him with you, kissing him. He supports himself on his left arm, his right hand working you to your climax.   
“A little harder, Dean, please!” You beg and he obeys.   
“This way?”  
“Yes, yes, god, that’s good!”  
“Close, honey?” He asks at your mouth as you can’t concentrate on the kiss anymore.   
“Yes,” you pant, “Oh, god, Dean! Please, I need ...”  
“What? What do you need?” He murmurs at your mouth, biting in your lower lip.   
“Your fingers in my pussy, please!”  
His neck cushions your moan as two fingers slide in you.   
“You feel fantastic, you feel incredibly good. Can barely wait to feel this hot pussy with my cock,” he whispers, “You’re so wet and hot, babe, you have no idea how good this feels.”  
And that’s it. Your orgasm hits you, your back arches and Dean holds you with his body on the sheets. He doesn’t stop he pushes you further, more and more.   
“Once again, you’re not ready, I feel it,” he murmurs and the second orgasm in 30 seconds tears you up.   
Dean takes his thumb off your clit before you’re getting oversensitive and fucks you lazily with his fingers, waiting for you to come down from your high.   
“Dean,” you sob, breathless, “Please, fuck me.”  
Your hands start caressing his upper part of the body, you kiss him on his collarbone while you try to guide him to your entrance with your feet on his ass.   
“Condom, babe. Give me a second.”  
His fingers leaving you and you sigh, orgasm-drunk. You take the last strawberry, wiping once again his precum of his cock while he unpacks the condom. You taste a little bit of him on the fruit and you know that you will love to blow him, to swallow every drop of his cum. You chew slowly, clearly enjoying and Dean chuckles. You open your eyes, seeing him kneeling between your legs with a big grin on his face.   
“Ready when you are, babe,” he states amused, pointing on his condom coated cock.   
“Come here, Dean. I want to be full in every sense of the word.”  
You spread your legs wider, open up for him and close your eyes again. You feel the pressure and the stretching as he enters you slowly, gentle and careful. Just as it’s appropriate for romantic sex on strawberry leafs.   
“Aaaah,” you sigh as he stretches your pussy, as he’s balls deep in you.   
“Full enough?”  
“It’s perfect. Never felt better in my whole life.”   
“In your whole life?” Dean grins and moves a bit, “I’m flattered.”  
“God, Dean! Yes! Please, move!”  
He does, in such an exquisite way you don’t want him to stop anymore. He could fuck you forever and it would still not be long enough.   
“Tomorrow I’ll send Sam to St. Elsewhere”, Dean pants, “And in the moment he’s gone I’ll bend you over the kitchen table and take you as my primal instincts tell me to do.”  
“God, yes, please, Dean!”   
“We’ll have so much fun”, he sighs, intensifying his efforts, speeding up and making you scream. 

“This was the best birthday picnic ever,” you sigh hours later, grabbing the box with condoms and shaking it.   
“I can’t. No,” Dean laughs and shakes his head but his cock gives a different impression.   
“You wanted to spear me up with your cock,” you whisper, crawling over him.   
“Yeah. That’s one of my favorite daydreams.”  
“You made my dream come true, I’ll make yours.”   
“Deal.” He whispers, guiding your mouth to his for a long and still hungry kiss.


End file.
